


with great intentions

by starbooms



Series: work husbands [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Hanamaki talk about your feelings challenge, Light Angst, M/M, Matsukawa really be feeling Makki man, Officer Workers, Oikawa and Iwaizumi play matchmaker for their besties, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, and we love to see it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbooms/pseuds/starbooms
Summary: when hanamaki sort of goes ghost during a business trip, matsukawa wonders if maybe-just maybe-they had messed up somehow changing their dynamic from strictly platonic to... not so much platonic anymore.thankfully, he has his favorite co-workers (oikawa tooru approved!) hajime and oikawa to help sort things out between them.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: work husbands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202705
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	with great intentions

**Author's Note:**

> haha i have not beta'd this at all i apologize for any and all mistakes. enjoy matsuhana nation!

Matsukawa thrusts his hips roughly, finding a rhythm that syncs with Hanamaki perfectly. His fingers curl into a fiery mane of red. His hips lifting off the seat. In a few minutes, he’s coming. Unraveling at the seams. Spurting hot cum into Hanamaki’s hungry mouth. Who swallows around him whole, hollowing out his cheeks as he goes right down to the base. Swallowing and swallowing. And Matsukawa can’t stop  _ coming _ . He groans, nearly whines, out Hanamaki’s name. Thrust over and over until his hips shake. His toes curl. 

He collapses back onto the couch. Hanamaki hums around his sensitive cock. He drags his tongue along the underside up until the tip. Where he wraps his lips around the base to continue suckling. 

Matsukawa gasps, “Hanamaki. I’m sensitive. I  _ can’t _ ,” he can’t stop thinking at this moment how good it must feel to come inside Hanamaki if finishing inside his mouth was so good. Was so bone melting. 

Hanamaki keeps sucking and coaxing him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Finally letting him go once Matsukawa’s head drops back, his eyes roll, and his thighs quiver. Hanamaki sighs, licking his lips. Matsukawa peers down because he l-enjoys seeing the way Hanamaki looks after sucking his cock. His cheeks get so red. His lips are always glistening and his pupils are blown wide with desire. 

It makes Matsukawa want to kiss him every time. 

“You were good, as usual.” Hanamaki stands, wincing a bit. “Ah fuck, my knees.” he rubs them, frowning. “I hate once you turn 26 your body starts failing.”

Matsukawa laughs, reaching out to hold Hanamaki by the hips. He’s at eye level with his bulging erection. Can see a wet spot forming on the front of Hanamaki’s sweats. Matsukawa’s lost count of how many times Hanamaki’s sucked him off. It’s well past the stage of  _ just because _ . And Matsukawa isn’t stupid enough to deny that. 

He’s offered several times to return the favor, and Hanamaki’s said no every single time. 

He thinks back to the Reddit post. How everyone and their mother said Hanamaki has to be in love with him. Or at the very least, has an ulterior motive that involves some sort of feelings. And Matsukawa has unpacked that implication multiple times over the past month and a half of their arrangement. 

He strokes Hanamaki’s hips while Hanamaki looks down, licking his lips. He drags his hands down his chest and slips it underneath his waistband. 

“You gonna jerk off in front of me?” Matsukawa’s voice is rough, raw with desire. His eyes glued to the motion of Hanamaki fisting himself underneath his sweats. 

Hanamaki tilts his head, “You gonna watch?”

“Hell yeah,” Matsukawa growls. 

Hanamaki moans Matsukawa’s name as he pulls down his pants enough to free his cock. It’s red at the tip, slick and dripping with precum. Matsukawa’s fixates on the delicious sight of Hanamaki stroking himself. It’s rough and jerky. Hanamaki thrusts into his hand, his head thrown back with his adam apple bobbing. Matsukawa curls his hands tightly around Hanamaki’s hips. He wants to taste him. He wants to taste his skin. He wants to know what Hanamaki tastes like when he finishes. Wants to hold him.

It’s maddening.

He  _ likes him too _ . 

Hanamaki finishes with a jerk, a shout. He groans and it’s such a desperate, debauched sound. His cum spurts and hits Matsukawa on the face. Which he relishes. His own cock twitching with renewal because Hanamaki finishing on him is so, so, so hot. Hanamaki thrusts into his hand a few more times. Riding out his orgasm. Matsukawa coos and whispers words of encouragement as he cums. 

With a sigh, Hanamaki falls forward. Matsukawa reaches for a box of tissues on the side table by his couch. He wipes his face off. But there’s a drip of Hanamaki’s cum on his cheek that he decides rather than wiping, he’ll swipe his finger through it instead and taste it. 

Hanamaki pushes back like he’s been shocked. “Don’t taste that!”

Matsukawa raises his eyebrows, sucking on his index finger. Cum tastes weird, for sure. But then he thinks, if it’s Hanamaki’s, he’d get used to the taste and drown in it. 

“Why not? You swallow mine like a champ everytime.”

“It’s  _ different _ ,” Hanamaki hisses. 

“How so?” 

“It… because… because I said so!” Hanamaki turns his head but Matsukawa catches the bright burning around his ears. Huh. Look at that. 

Matsukawa is at a crossroads now. To proceed or to not proceed. To push until it breaks or to wait until it breaks naturally. He’s heavily feeling the former today but he can’t tell if that’s his afterglow hitting or his actual feelings. 

So instead, he chooses peace. 

“Come here you weirdo,” Matsukawa lies back down on his couch and extends his arms out for Hanamaki.

Hanamaki turns his head back around, his frown deepening. “What do you want?”

“To cuddle.”

“Why?”

“Uh,”  _ because I like you. Because I think you like me too. And every time you bring me to cloud nine with your mouth I want to take you there with me. I want to shatter heaven with you. Over and over again.  _ He’d rather die than say that. So instead he goes, “Cause cuddling in the afterglow is peak hook up culture. Didn’t you know?”

Hanamaki stares down at him for a long, long time. Matsukawa resists the urge to flinch. He wonders what’s going on in Hanamaki’s head. He can think of a few things. Most of them probably include weighing the pros and cons. Matsukawa convinces himself that Hanamaki’s gonna choose whatever option involves booking it out of Matsukawa’s apartment.

Instead, Hanamaki sighs. Matsukawa watches as a visible shift occurs. Hanamaki’s shoulders sag and he slowly but surely settles himself down on top of Matsukawa. 

He’s warm, Matsukawa thinks as his hands fall to his friend’s hips. He can feel Hanamaki’s heartbeat. Loud, banging relentlessly and filling up the space of silence between them. Where it’s just their breaths, and the silent murmur of the tv. With Matsukawa’s thoughts racing a hundred miles a minute. 

Hanamaki leans forward, his eyelashes are so long as he peers down. 

Matsukawa thinks about kissing him. 

Hanamaki grins. It’s a slow stretch that becomes crooked at the top left corner of his mouth. “Your heartbeat’s wicked loud right now.”

“Yeah?” Matsukawa returns the grin, “so’s yours.”

“Shh, don’t call me out like that.” and then, his eyes drop. Matsukawa catches the way they look down at his lips. How they stay there for what seems like eternities spiraling out of control, only to draw back up to his eyes again.

Matsukawa’s throat goes incredibly dry. 

_ Kiss him.  _

They move. It’s hesitant. He’s not sure who goes first. Their lips are mere inches from one another. There’s practically no more space between them. Just one of them has to move and they’d be kissing. Kissing and kissing. Drowning and drowning into whatever pool of emotions they’ve created between them. And Matsukawa gladly accepts such a fate. Drowning in Hanamaki is as easy as holding him, touching him, feeling the warmth of his breath as their lips nearly-

“I should go.”

Matsukawa’s eyes snap open as Hanamaki’s wrecked, whispered voice slices the moment in two. Hanamaki eases himself up and off Matsukawa. He quickly gets up from the couch, “What? Why? You can stay.”  _ you’re always allowed to stay, _ is on the tip of his tongue. Fear holds him back from saying that aloud, however. 

Shaking his head, Hanamaki heads for the door to put on his shoes. “I know.” and that simple confession stabs Matsukawa  _ deep _ . “I gotta go home, though. I miss my bed and also, you snore mad loud, Mattsun.” Hanamaki slips into his shoes. Hits the front part to make sure they’re snug and then goes for the door. Before he leaves, he turns his head. 

Matsukawa’s at the doorway. His nerves tell him to reach out. To tell him to stay. To ask him. To maybe even beg. Because he’s not sure why Hanamaki would ever want to leave when the two of them have always been each other’s greatest comfort and home. 

“Ok,” he says instead. 

A rushed, hoarse sound that makes him sick to his stomach. 

Hanamaki nods. There’s a gleam in his eyes that Matsukawa can’t really place. Like he’s waiting. Like he’s hoping. But Matsukawa can’t tell if that’s correct or if he’s projecting. 

Hanamaki leaves. And it’s just Matsukawa alone in the empty space of his doorway. “Fuck,” he swears. “Fucking  _ fuck _ .”

-

“Mattsun, enter this data for me, please.”

“Yup.”

“And then when you’re done construct it into a graph so we can use it for the next meeting.”

“Okay.”

“Also make sure to call our clients to see if they need anymore input on their branding.”

“Sure.”

“And after I need you to rub my feet with some baby oil so they can stay nice and moisturized for the rest of the day.”

“Can do.”

“Mattsun!” Mattsun jumps as Oikawa slams his hands on the top of his computer monitor. He slowly gazes upwards, meeting Oikawa’s frustrated face. “What is the matter with you! Why would you agree to rub my feet so easily?”

“Uh… manipulation?” 

Oikawa rolls his eyes and comes over to sit in the empty chair beside Matsukawa. Hanamaki usually sits there. But he’s been sent on a business trip this week and isn’t scheduled to return until next Monday. Matsukawa didn’t even  _ know  _ he was going until he had texted Hanamaki this morning asking where was at. 

_ Makki: oh yeaaah, lol. sorry I forgot. its no biggie i’ll be back in a week’s top.  _

_ Mattsun: you should have said something last night.  _

_ Makki: sorry was preoccupied with your (eggplant emoji) in my (open mouth emoji).  _

Sometimes Hanamaki could be incredibly frustrating. And irksome. Matsukawa had pocketed his phone after switching it to DND so he could preserve what little was left of his sanity. Normally, Hanamaki would have told him that he was going off for a business trip. It was  _ weird  _ that he hadn’t, right? He had to stop himself there and then from spiraling into an overthinking hole. 

“You miss your work husband that much?”

Oikawa’s too damn perceptive for his own good. Matsukawa goes back to typing. “Nah. I’m just tired.”

Oikawa hums, unconvinced. “Suuuuuure. He’ll be back in a few days, you know.”

He does know. Doesn’t grate on his nerves any less that he found out  _ today  _ Hanamaki wouldn’t be here. “Don’t you have your own work hubby to bother?” Matuskawa employs the tried and true tactic of diversion and distraction. 

“Who?” Oikawa has the nerve to look shocked. “I can’t believe I’m married and this is the first time I’m hearing about it… Was the wedding messy?”

“Oi, quit the gossiping.” Iwaizumi bops Oikawa on the head with a file folder. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelps, rubbing at his head. “That’s workplace  _ harassment _ .”

“Enter work husband stage left,” Matsukawa snickers. Oikawa and Iwaizumi being together was something Matsukawa hadn’t expected to check off his bingo board so soon. But knowing they’re together makes all the other moments he’s spied (while on the company dime!) make a lot of sense. 

He watches as they descend into their usual banter and he peeks the subtle moments that show they’re more than just coworkers. The way Iwaizumi smiles through every little joking insult he makes. How Oikawa makes discreet touches to Iwaizumi’s elbow, his knuckles, the tips of his fingers.  _ That could be me and Makki _ , he thinks forlornly. 

Why hasn’t he made his move yet? It’s been a month since they started hooking up. If you could even call it that. It was always Hanamaki giving and not letting Matsukawa give in return. Not for Matsukawa’s lack of trying. He’s asked every session to return the favor. To make Hanamaki feel as good-maybe even better-than he makes him feel. And everytime Hanamaki builds up a barbed wire fence between them and says no. 

Which Matsukawa respects, 100%. Even if every bone in his body tells him to take the chance of barbed wire digging into the palm of his hands as he climbs up and over the fence to where Hanamaki is. Time and time again. 

He can’t help but imagine how work would be like if he could secretly flirt with Hanamaki during office hours. Not like they  _ don’t  _ already either. He thinks immediately of the day where they snuck off during lunch, his face erupting into flames at the thought. 

“What’s wrong with you? You sick?” 

Matsukawa snaps back from his thoughts. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are both looking at him but while Iwaizumi looks concerned, Oikawa’s a lion ready to pounce. 

“Oooo, Mattsun! You jealous?” Oikawa sings, slipping his fingers through Iwaizumi’s fingers. 

“Oi, what are you doing while we’re at work, Tooru?”

“Asserting my dominance,” Oikawa laughs as Iwaizumi slips out of his hands. Matsukawa’s eyebrow twitches three times. “Haha! What a face you have right now, Mattsun!”

“This is workplace harassment,” Matsukawa replies flatly. He peeks at his phone to see if he had any missed notifications. Nothing pops up on the screen from the person he  _ wants  _ to hear. All he has is Instagram suggesting pages to follow. Disappointed, he slips his phone back into his pocket. 

“Stop bullying your subordinates or I’ll report you to HR.”

Oikawa clutches his chest as if he’s been shot, “Iwa-chan! That’s  _ mutiny _ .”

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes in response. Promptly shutting Oikawa up who puffs out his lips, acting like he’s been put in time out. He swivels back in his chair muttering to himself about how mean Iwa-chan could be in public compared to when they were in private. Matsukawa stops listening halfway through. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Matsukawa abruptly gets up from his chair and stalks for the door. 

“Bye, Mattsun! Make sure to spray afterwards if you’re gonna take a du-OW!” 

-

Someone spins him around in his chair suddenly while he’s in the middle of typing up progress reports. The someone’s none other than Oikawa. Iwaizumi’s standing behind him, wearing the same shit-eating grin that Oikawa has. Matsukawa’s not sure what to make with their sudden appearance but his gut’s telling him it’s not good. 

“Log out. We’re going out for drinks.”

Matsukawa looks at his phone. Still no new messages. He frowns, and glances back up at his coworkers. “I’m on the clock for another ten minutes.”

Iwaizumi snorts, “Please. Since when are you all gung ho about fulfilling your time? Who’s gonna tell you to  _ me _ , your supervisor?” 

Damn, he kind of had a point. Matsukawa rubs at his eyes. A drink would be nice right now. Several, in fact, would do wonders to drown out the irritation, annoyance, and overall sadness he’s felt all day. He hasn’t heard from Hanamaki at all. His text messages of funny memes, cool songs, and messy office gossip updates went delivered but not replied. Hanamaki  _ always  _ responded to his texts within the minute. Hearing nothing from him made Matsukawa’s anxiety spike.

Was he being avoided?

Was he being ignored?

He couldn’t stop thinking about their last night together. Wondering and unpacking and digging through the memories to find the moment where things went wrong. 

“Come. Get. Drinks.” Oikawa’s so stubborn. He’d keep going until Matsukawa broke. Today, he didn’t have the energy to see how long it would take to get him to stop. Drinks. He could do drinks. 

Something to distract him. 

“Yeah, okay.” he turns around and saves all his documents before turning off his computer. “But it’s on your dime, right boss?” he asks Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi nudges Oikawa with an elbow, “It’s on him. But he doesn’t know that yet. It’s a surprise.”

“Hey! We never agreed to that!” 

“Oh I love that even more,” Matsukawa chuckles. Dinner always tasted better when Oikawa was made to pay for it. 

They went to their favorite bar down in the city. They sat down at their usual booth and ordered their meal. Matsukawa starts on the drinks, first. Ordering himself two pitchers of beer and telling the waitress to come back to him when he was ready to order food. Oikawa and Iwaizumi sit across from him, exchanging mutual glances in that annoying language they slipped into no matter who was around him. 

“What?” he takes a long gulp of his beer. 

“No no. This is fine,” Oikawa snaps his chopsticks apart and lays out a piece of meat onto the grill. It starts to sizzle as he brings another piece to lay beside it. “It’s totally natural to drink your sorrows away while constantly checking your phone.”

“I’m not-” he looks down at his hand, the unlocked phone screen, and the no new messages bubble. He closes his phone and turns it facedown. Oikawa’s smirking at him and Iwaizumi’s got this face like he’s trying to figure out how he was going to approach the situation at hand. Matsukawa wishes they would just let him drink and eat in peace but they were both his best friends and incredibly nosy. Which is, he notices now as the waitress comes and he finally puts in his order, a horrible combination.

“How’s Makki?” Iwaizumi’s going for the subtlety on point approach it seems. Lovely. 

“Dunno,” and it comes out sharper than intended. So he drinks some more to dull the edge. “Haven’t heard from him since he left.”

“Really?” Oikawa chews obnoxiously and swallows. “That’s weird. ‘Cause he sent me a picture of someone today saying he found someone who’s taste in ties was even more disgusting than mine was. I nearly blocked him over that!” 

The noise of the bar becomes distant and faint. Muddled over the sudden static buzzing that hits Matsukawa’s ears. His heart rate is suddenly so apparent. And his fingers begin to shake as the dots he’s been avoiding to connect against his will with horrific speed. 

“Is that so?” his voice sounds weird. Not like his own. He tries to drink some more but the beer loses all its taste in his mouth. So he lowers the glass. He feels like he’s gonna hurl. 

“Issei,” Iwaizumi rarely uses his given name. Matsukawa goes rigid.

“Are you guys fighting?” Oikawa’s voice is quiet and without any of its usual teasing energy. He’s seriously regarding Matsukawa, with cool eyes and an analytical gaze. 

Matsukawa opens his mouth to respond but he’s not even sure how he’d answer. He’d have to go into details about how their relationship suddenly turned from that of best friends and coworkers to… something more but not  _ enough _ . How he’s desperately trying to understand why his friend keeps looking at him as if he wants to say everything and nothing at once. Why Hanamaki always looks like he’s wrestling against or with something once they finish their little song and dance. 

There’s a terrible squeezing in his heart. He clenches his hands and his nails dig into the palms. 

Iwaizumi goes to speak when his phone rings. He frowns and takes it out, “Gonna silence it,” when he freezes. Matsukawa catches a glance at the screen. 

_ Makki.  _

“Answer it,” tumbles out before Matsukawa can stop it. Iwaizumi levels him with a look and Matsukawa frowns. “ _ Please _ .” 

With a sigh, Iwaizumi answers it. Oikawa reachers over to put the phone on speaker and presses the side buttons to turn down the volume. They both lean in as Iwaizumi puts the phone to his ear and answers. 

“Hey Makki, what’s up? How’s work?”

“Work is sooooooo good, Boss!” Makki’s slurred voice comes over the speaker. He’s been drinking. A pang shoots through Matsukawa. Why didn’t he get a drunk call from Makki? What happened between them that he has no idea about and now, seemingly, can’t fix?

“You drunk?”

“A biiiiiiiit. I was sad and there was beer and so I said: ‘You know what, therapy is expensive but beer is cheap!’ Now, here we are.”

“He’s got a point,” Oikawa mouths. Iwaizumi shoots him a glare. 

“You said work’s good, so what’s got you sad?”

“It’s uh…” there’s a sound like he’s rummaging for something in the background. There’s the telltale click and hiss of popping open another beer can. Followed by the sounds of Makki taking several gulps before burping. “Ahhhh, that’s the stuff! Gosh, what was your question?”

“Why are you drinking yourself to oblivion alone on your work trip?”

“Right! Right. It’s cause, well geez. If I say it out loud that’s gonna make it all real and shit but… I didn’t know what else to do ‘cause I’ve been thinking about this awhile and I’m just like, really tired of thinking about this. Ya know what I mean?”

“I do…” Iwaizumi glances at Matsukawa. 

He wishes very much to not be perceived by anyone at the moment. His eyes narrow onto Iwaizumi’s phone, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Well. I’ve been thinking. Thinking that I might… uh, love someone. But it kinda sucks cause I don’t wanna fuck up our friendship or workhusbandship. Then I’m like, you’ve already sucked his dick like twenty bajillion times Takahiro! You’ve already fucked it up!”

Oh, now Matsukawa  _ definitely  _ wishes he could be unknown. Not able to be perceived. A ghost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi eyes both land on him. And he wants nothing more than to disappear into his beer bottle. He just gives them a half shrug and chugs the rest of his beer. 

“Oh my fucking-” Oikawa whispers and he gets up from the table, shuddering with laughter. Until he’s out of eyesight but Matsukawa can hear the roar of his cackling from afar. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat and puts his phone off speaker. Matsukawa leans back against the booth as he speaks. “Why do you think you fucked it up?... Uh huh. Well, does he enjoy it?... Oh he does, huh? Well, has he told you he doesn’t like you? Oh, you never asked huh?” Iwaizumi has the audacity to look amused right now while Matsukawa’s going through the seven stages of grief.

Oikawa comes back. Takes one look at their table and absolutely  _ loses  _ it again. He slaps a hand over his mouth and storms off again in fits of laughter.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Matsukawa whispers with a hiss but he’s stopped by Iwaizumi grabbing his wrist. 

“Listen, I’m gonna keep it brief. Confess. See what happens. Your friendship with this… person,” he chuckles and oh God Matsukawa wants to  _ die _ . “Is incredibly strong. I doubt whatever you say or do will ruin your bond. And if it gets awkward because they don’t reciprocate, that’s a consequence but… something tells me your chances of success are quite high… Yeah. No. I wouldn’t lie to you. No, that time in high school when I said I’d let you win the arm wrestling wasn’t a lie. I tried to let you win. Yes… yes… ok. Drink water before going to bed. Ok, see you Monday. Bye.”

Oikawa comes back right as Iwaizumi pockets his phone. He sits down next to Iwaizumi, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. Iwaizumi’s wraps his arm around Oikawa’s waist and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Ya’ll enjoying yourselves?” Matuskawa’s voice is pitched high, drenched with frying nerves. 

“Immensely!” Oikawa has no shame in his answer. “I told you they were hooking up, Iwa-chan!”

“Congrats, you can read a room. Are you proud?”

“Yes. Kiss me,” he puckers his lips for a kiss. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but obliges anyway. 

Matsukawa keeps wondering at what point in the night will he combust into flames or be whisked away by aliens. Either option would be super duper helpful to avoid all the feelings he’s feeling at the moment. 

“So Issei, my next question is-what are you going to do with this information?”

“Well… I’m not supposed to know, am I?” because while this information was certainly… an eye-opener. It still wasn’t a conversation he was supposed to hear. Hanamaki obviously didn’t think they had a chance. And if that was the case, maybe they were better off just… letting whatever they had fizzle out like Matsukawa’s second beer.

His phone buzzes and his hand immediately shoots out to flip it over. 

_ Makki: Notification.  _

He swipes the button to the left to open the text thread. Eyes growing wider and wider as he reads the first text. 

_ MissYooooou  _

There’s typing and then another text comes through.  _ FUCK.  _

Matsukawa bursts out with laughter. Loud enough that a few heads turn but he doesn’t care. 

Ok. Ok maybe the universe was saying he shouldn’t give up. 

“Boss,” his fingers hover over the keyboard, wondering what he should say. “You know where Makki’s staying?” 

“At the company apartments in Tokyo.”

Matsukawa types his message, hits send, then raises his head. “Think I can get there tonight if I grab the train right now?”

“A mad fucking lad you are…” Oikawa shakes his head and leans over to take Matsukawa’s drink. He downs it without permission but Matsukawa’s too high on hope to care. “There. I finished it so you don’t have to. Get outta here and go be all cute and fanfic tropey with your work husband.”

“Please! You and boss are the ULTIMATE fanfic trope right now,” Matsukawa hurries out of the booth, grabbing his jacket and briefcase while he does. “I’m calling in sick tomorrow!” he yells behind him. 

“Yeah yeah. I’ll see you  _ and  _ Makki Monday!” Iwaizumi calls back after him. 

The train ride would be about three hours but Matsukawa didn’t care. 

_ See you soon _ , is what he texted to Makki. 

He’d make good on that. 

-

Standing at the door separating him from Hanamaki is more nerve wracking than he imagined it would be. 

He had a long time to envision and fantasize about his moment while he was on the train. So many ways this scenario could pan out-and most of them were positive. One, at the very least, started and ended with Hanamaki slamming the door on his face. 

He exhales, his breath coming out as a wisp while his body shivers from the cold. He’s been standing at the door for about ten minutes. And as each minute passed he kept thinking maybe… he should go home. Maybe he should not follow through on his impulse. 

But then, hadn’t this all started by impulse? Wouldn’t it be for the best to follow through on the same spark it began with? Hanamaki took the risk of changing their dynamic and Matsukawa knew, he  _ knew  _ despite his anxieties telling him otherwise, that he couldn’t go back. Not until he heard it for himself how Hanamaki felt. 

“Suck it up, Matsukawa,” he shivers, pulling his scarf down from his mouth. He counts to five. Exhales slowly. And knocks. “HANAMAKI OPEN THE DOOR! YOUR WORK HUSBAND IS HERE”

Three seconds pass and then there’s a stomping of feet. The door swings open. Hanamaki’s face is bright red like he just ran a marathon, panting and out of breath.

“Issei?” Hanamaki looks him up and down. As if he can’t believe he’s here. 

Matsukawa grins crookedly, “In the flesh. It’s cold. Can I come in?” 

The apartments the company lets them stay in are pretty nice. Nothing incredibly fancy but they have all the essentials of comfort for a few days, or even months stay. Hanamkis’ obviously made himself at home here, Matsukawa thinks as he walks by open and empty beer cans on the coffee table and on the floor. 

Hanamaki doesn’t sit down. He’s just staring at Matsukawa, mouth agape. Eyes wide and full of, what Matsukawa hopes is, pleasant surprise. 

“Hi,” Matsukawa says quietly. 

“Why are you here?”

Ouch, that hurts. He winces, “You said you missed me. As your work husband, I decided it’d be rude to keep you from me any longer.”

“I was drunk when I sent that.”

“Drunk actions are sober thoughts.” 

“Isse-”

“Takahiro,” Matsukawa cuts in. Suddenly he’s in Hanamaki’s space. Hanamaki stumbles backwards, and trips over a beer can. 

“AHHH!” he screams as he falls to the ground. Matsukawa can barely hold back his shock. They look at each other for a few minutes before the first set of chuckles erupt between them.

Matsukawa clutches his sides as he laughs and laughs. His laughter mixes easily and naturally with the high, chaotic pitch of Hanamaki’s laughter. They laugh and laugh for what seems like forever. 

“Takahiro, oh my God. You cannot be this funny unprovoked,” Matsukawa grins, feeling a new found energy as he kneels down in front of Hanamaki.

Hanamaki snorts, picking up the beer bottle that caused him to fall and chucking it off to the side. “Well you know. Comedy’s in my blood and all that jazz.”

“Comedy or clumsiness?” Matsukwa jokes. 

God, it’s so easy with Hanamaki. It always has been. Even when they’re falling apart they could fall together with a natural union. Matsukawa can’t help himself. He wants to kiss him. And really, truly, it’s always been Hanamaki. Who’s been by his side since high school. Who understood his humor and his mind better than anyone else. 

It’s always, always, always been Hanamaki who makes going to work less of a chore and more of a reward. Because he gets to spend his days working right beside him. Laughing with him. Collaborating and building and bonding with the one person in life who he never, ever had to worry about shit getting complicated. 

“Takahiro guess what I’m thinking.”

“That we need better communication skills and that I shouldn’t have ghosted you?”

“That,” Matsukawa admits, shuffling closer and closer and closer. “But also, that I want to kiss you senseless. A lot. And then have sex with you. A lot. And then, in the morning, after we’ve both fucked each other senseless, we’ll talk.” 

The moonlight slips through the open balcony window, illuminating the deep red that’s crossing Hanamaki’s cheeks like wildfire. His eyes are wide and bright. For a second, he looks stunned. Then his mouth morphs into a smile and he’s laughing, chuckling, falling apart and moving closer to meet Matsukawa half way.

Kissing Hanamaki feels right. 

He’s eager and hungry and starved when he kisses, and is just as much a tease with kissing as he is with everything else. And Matsukawa loves it. He loves kissing Hanamaki and swallowing his gasps. Loves being on top of him, as they kiss on the floor, feeling Hanamaki’s hands slide under his coat and shirt, trying to touch as much skin as possible. Loves the way their hips start a desperate, hungry grind of friction and heat that has Hanamaki groaning Matsukawa’s name into his mouth while Matsukawa licks his way inside something filthy. 

“Fuck, I should have let you kiss me sooner,” Hanamaki’s hard. Matsukawa can feel his hardness rubbing against his own. He pulls him back for another kiss. Their lips simply can’t stop. It’s like they can’t get enough. 

“You should have,” Matsukawa’s voice is hoarse as they part. Hanamaki smirks, rolling his hips upwards as he presses Matsukawa down firmly onto his cock. Matsukawa groans, his head dropping down to the crook of Hanamaki’s neck. “Fuck. Fuck don’t do that. I’ll come in my pants on the floor.”

“Ohhh, sexy,” Hanamaki’s voice sounds just as wrecked. “That’s actually a wet dream of mine.”

“Now you’re bold,” Matsukawa rolls his eyes and leans up, “Stop. Because I came here with an agenda and it did not include dry humping on the floor.”

“Really? I could have sworn…” 

“I’m gonna suck you off.”

“.... Oh.” Hanamaki’s eyes are blown wide with desire and he shimmies up a bit, working on his pajama pants to pull them down. “Ok! Ok well, don’t let me stop you! C’mon then!”

Matsukawa doesn’t hesitate. 

He pulls Hanamaki’s pants down, raising his eyebrows when Makki’s cock springs free. “No underwear?”

Hanamaki’s grin is filthy and smug, “I was always planning on cumming tonight. Only difference is the how.”

“How indeed,” Matsukawa drawls. He curls his fingers around the base of Hanamaki’s cock and strokes. His eyes lock on Makki as he jerks him off with an even pace. Watches as his head falls back and how he licks his lips. How his Adam’s apple bobs and how his mouth hangs open, lips stuttering.

“Fuck, you’re such a tease.”

“Mhmmm,” he’s never given a blow job before. But he’s been imagining how he’d go down on Hanamaki for so long now. He takes Hanamaki into his mouth, suckling on the head as he continues jerking him off. Hanamaki’s hips stutter, a soft curse falling from his mouth.

He drags his tongue up and down, enjoying the taste of precum on his tongue. Mostly because it’s Makki. Makki makes everything sweeter, everything better. And as he works himself up and down, dragging his tongue and using his lips. He thinks how he should have done this sooner. Should have found himself between Makki’s legs, holding his quivering thighs in his hands, working him over and over until he cums down his throat. He should have done this  _ much  _ sooner. He tries to swallow. Just a bit. His jaw aches from it, but the sound of Hanamaki’s gasps and the feeling of his fingers in his hair urges him forward.

He goes down as far as he can. Until his throat burns and he feels tears in his eyes. 

“Fuck. Fuck, Issei. You look good with my cock in my mouth. Breathe through your nose for me. It’- _ ah _ -help.”

It does, though not by much. He’ll have to work on his deep throat skills. And he makes a promise that whenever he can and however he can, he’ll get on his knees. Use his mouth. And all the methods he’s learned that drive Makki wild. He wants to make him cum with his mouth. With his fingers. With his dick. 

Hanamaki thrusts shallowly into Matsukawa’s mouth. His fingers card through Matsukawa’s hair. Matsukawa’s so hard, straining against his pants. He grinds his palm down onto his cock, the friction electric. Shooting up his spine. God, he could come like this. Maybe he  _ would  _ come in his pants. Just because he was making Hanamaki feel good with his mouth. 

“Close,” Makki’s voice is so raspy and hoarse and wrecked. His hips move frantically and Matsukawa shuts his eyes as he moves his mouth and hands to his rhythm. “ _ Fuck, Issei _ !” He shouts as he cums. Back arched and thighs trembling. His nails dig into Matsukawa’s scalp as he spurts into Matsukawa’s open, ready mouth. 

Matsukawa pops off Hanamaki’s dick, his tongue out as he jerks Makki threw his orgasm. His cum shoots onto his tongue, the side of his lips, his cheeks. He swallows and sucks on the tip of Makki’s penis, slowing his strokes until Hanamaki’s just aftershocks of pleasure. 

“Oh, oh my,” Hanamaki taps Matsukawa’s head several times. “No more. I’ll pass away.” 

Sucking Makki off was... everything. He licks his lips, swiping his thumb over his cheeks stained with cum. He sucks on his thumb, maintaining eye contact with Makki who’s cock looks like it was ready for another round. 

“Hey now,” Makki purrs. He raises his foot up to Matsukawa’s crotch, pressing down with the heel of his foot. He rubs up and down, up and down, and Matsukawa groans. Rolling up into the motion. “We still gotta take care of you… bed or the floor?”

Matsukawa hums in consideration as he weighs his options. The floor was convenient because they were already there. But the bed for their first time was disgustingly sweet and sentimental. He bucks into Makki’s foot in response to a rather  _ particular  _ added pressure. 

Makki only grins at him in return. 

“Bed,” he finally decides.

Sex with Hanamaki is even better. 

Matsukawa thrusts up into the tight, hot heat that’s Hanamaki’s entrance. They move in discordant harmony. Hanamaki groans as he grinds down on Matsukawa’s cock. Rolling his hips as his nails dig into Matsukawa’s chest. The bed creaks from their sex but Matsukawa can’t bring himself to care if someone’s living on the other side, hearing them fuck. Because he’s wanted this for so long. 

“You’re so hot, what the fuck.” Matsukawa gasps, his fingers digging hard into the dips of Makki’s hips. “God, you’re so hot like this.”

Makki scoffs, he leans forward and squeezes the tip of Matsukawa’s cock with his entrance before slamming back down. The action makes them both moan. Matsukawa’s skin is hot all over. It’s so,  _ so  _ tight. He’s gonna cum soon. He feels it rising in his stomach. He doesn’t want this to end. But he’s so close. And Makki is working his cock so well, he can’t hold back. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he warns, rolling his hips upwards.

“Cum. Lemme see it,” Makki leans forward and their tongues meet, sliding and slipping in sloppy fashion. Makki sucks on his tongue as Makki fucks up into him. His hips trembling and his stomach coiling until the release hits. 

Mastukawa cums inside the condom, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. He sees white at the corner of his eyes. He’s cumming and cumming, his hips jerking as he spends himself inside of Makki.

He collapses on the bed boneless. Makki is still hard, looking as blissed out as Matsukawa feels. 

Licking his lips, Matsukawa wraps his fingers around Makki’s cock and strokes him in time to the other’s thrusts. “Cum for me next,” he whispers. His jerking is rather offbeat but he doesn’t care. Makki fucks up into his hand and down onto his cock in rushed desperation until his hips stutter and his mouth drops, and his head falls back as he goes taut. White streaks spurt from his cock, hitting Matsukawa’s chest, as he cums. 

Matsukawa strokes him through his orgasm until Makki’s a mess and falls on top of him. Both men are out of breath. Boneless, sated, sweaty, but entirely too happy to care. 

Hanamaki rolls off Matsukawa to the other side of the bed. Giving Matsukawa the chance to take off his condom and duck it in the trash can nearby. They settle into bed together. Makki on his side and Matsukawa spooned up next to him. 

This is easy too. To fall into step without words after sex. Comfort doesn’t even begin to describe the way they move around each other. To know they can just, be, and do, and exist in whatever space they create for their relationship makes a heat bloom in Matsukawa’s chest that runs hotter than his skin felt during sex. He kisses Makki’s shoulder. The back of his neck. Then to the crook of where his neck and shoulder meet. 

“Never pegged you to be such a softie,” Hanamaki mutters.

Matsukawa scoffs, “Only for you, it seems.”

“I feel  _ so  _ special.”

“You should, because you are.”

And that causes Makki to shift in Matsukawa’s arms until they’re facing each other. They stare at each other, eyes roaming, before their lips are drawn together. It’s a slow kiss. There’s no rush to the way their mouths move and map out one another. As if they’re taking all the time they had spent not kissing, and poured it into this moment. They’d break apart, only for the other to chase them back in for another kiss. 

Matsukawa wraps his arms tightly around Hanamaki, who presses himself closer and closer as he opens his mouth so Matsukawa can slip his tongue inside. Their tongues wine and curl against each other. As they swallow each other’s moans and gasps. 

Makki’s the first to pull back, pressing his hand to Matsukawa’s cheek. Searching his eyes for something, anything. Matsukawa’s not sure. But he turns his face into Makki’s palm so he can kiss his hand. 

When he opens his eyes Makki is smiling at him, all dopey like. 

“Did Boss tell you? About my phone call?”

“Ah… I was uh, there.” Matsukawa coughs, glancing off the side nervously. “For it…” 

“Of course you were,” Makki laughs and shuffles closer so he’s right at Matsukawa’s chest. “You fucked me so good I can’t even be mad about it.” 

“Always knew my sex skills would save the day for me…”

“The power of fuckery,” they snicker, the tiredness seeping in. Matsukawa knows they should talk. They should unpack what happened with Hanamaki sort of ghosting him and Matsukawa’s kind of, not really confession. 

Then he feels Hanamaki kiss the lower part of his neck and murmur, “I’m so glad you came to find my stupid ass, you stupid ass,” so he decides that all that talk can just wait until tomorrow. 

After they fuck again, of course. 


End file.
